The Mist

by Stephen King

He walked toward us, showing us how all right he was, and Steff began to tremble in my arms.

What even is this character

“It’s the brightness of the sun,” I said. “It’s the same way clouds look from an airplane when you fly over them.”

Why does this guy know everything

His forty-dollar haircut was in disarray and

THAT IS SO MUCH WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL

went back around the house, feeling really good for the first time since I got up. My own saw started on the first tug, and I went to work.

This guy is soooo annoying

harried-looking girl was totting up purchases on a battery-powered pocket calculator.

Me

Two good-looking girls of about sixteen with CAMP WOODLANDS

Jesus stop

Its pink and noxiously plump body was aspirating rapidly.

Eeewie

My wife was at home, maybe alive, more probably dead, alone either way, and I loved her; I wanted to get Billy and me back to her more than anything, but I also wanted to screw this lady named Amanda Dumfries.

What an absolute asshole

You know what talent is? The curse of expectation. As a kid you have to deal with that, beat it somehow. If you can write, you think God put you on earth to blow Shakespeare away. Of if you can paint, maybe you think—I did—that God put you on earth to blow your father away.

can seem pretty cheerful compared to the existential comedy/horror of the ozone layer dissolving under the combined assault of a million fluorocarbon spray cans of deodorant.